Understood
by 3DY3Namite
Summary: Hatake Kakashi was left in the world, deserted by his father. As his acts still haunt him, where was he to go in the darkness that encompassed him? One-shot, songfic.


Inspired by the song "I Am Understood" by Relient K.

Songfic

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or "I Am Understood" by Relient K.

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><p>Three years have already passed…<p>

The birds chirped as they flew across the soft blue sky dotted with the lagging clouds of the storm that had recently passed. The sun managed to cast its warm rays of light down onto Konoha through the gaps of the clouds.

This year was different…not that the Hatake cared, anyhow.

With a distasteful disgust and a sour expression only slightly scrunching his face, the thoughts of his father's committing seppuku drifted into his mind of the eleven year old boy, not unlike the clouds in the sky. But his thoughts were darkly colored, a far contrast compared to the near-white puffs floating in the sky.

He was walking back after another successful completion of a mission, nothing too challenging, but certainly not boring.

The sun got its chance and poured its rays onto the street, warming the earth.

_Dark clouds blanketed the skies two to three times over as rain poured down onto the streets like mad._

A gentle breeze, left behind from the storm, swiftly blew through the village, as if wanting to catch up to its superiors.

_Gusts of wind pounded on the roofs of the darkened village, showing no mercy as it threw its head back and howled with power._

The village wasn't too bruised by the recent storm; no signs of it appeared at all, other than the evident wetness of the rain. Everything seemed to be going back into its cycle.

_Lightning seared itself onto the clouds, the whole world its stage. Thunder shortly followed it, booming throughout Konoha, rattling its houses and residents. One of the most fiercest and darkest storms yet._

_An eight year old Kakashi peered out the window, watching with a near expressionless face as the storm continued to pound itself onto the village, only hints of fear and worry flitting across his face like the debris in the streets._

_The strong light of the lightening blinded him momentarily, resulting in him turning his head from the window. So maybe it was a bad idea to watch this after all…_

_He slid down from the chest backed against the wall under the window so he could get a better view of his village. If he was only taller…_

_Not wanting to replenish his boredom, he went to seek out his father._

_The power had gone out, but candles were dotted throughout the compound, allowing the flame's light to dance on the walls, driving away the darkness._

_He went to check the main room, seeing if his father was in there. Peeking his head around the corner, he found it empty._

_Suddenly the feeling of the darkness that is loneliness pressed on him within the house, but he shied it away as being scared, which he wasn't. Shinobi don't get scared. He had been a Chuunin for two years now, he knew better than this._

_Next, he checked his father's bedroom. He had been sharing his room with his father, but he kept insisting that he get his own room, which, after many requests and countless numbers of reasoning, he got. He had been proud then, seeing that he was growing up, aiming to be just like his dad._

_But that was back about three years ago, when he was five. Now, the pride had dwindled as he walked down the long hall, quietly, liked the shinobi he was._

_He wandered into the room a few steps, wondering why this room turned up empty when his eyes wandered down. A large lump was on the ground._

_Kakashi then realized that the room was completely dark, no candles were illuminated here. Actually, no candles were in here at all. The boy's brow furrowed in confusion as he focused on the lump._

_His eyes widened, fear clutching his soul with its cold claws._

_Lightening flashed again, thunder not far behind. He couldn't move. He was at war with himself._

_He wasn't stupid—he had seen the signs. His father hadn't been himself lately. Their usual training sessions, little as they came, almost dwindled to none as he wouldn't do them half the time and the other half when he did, they were cut short. He noticed his father's usual warm attitude seemed to slip as he seemed forever entranced in the distance._

_Like any good son, he was concerned and confused. Kakashi had prodded his dad, trying to get anything out of him as to why he was like this. But all he would do is shy him away and say, "Not now, son."_

_By this age, Kakashi had been able to take care of himself if his father wasn't home. But now, Sakumo never seemed to be out on missions. On the rare occasions he went out, the famed shinobi would be followed with accusations and screams from the other shinobi, villagers even, and his own comrades._

_That was more recent. He wanted to do something, but now he was too late. His father was already dead, having committed seppuku, his blood and innards spewing everywhere._

_Kakashi was shaking. He wanted to shout out, cry, react, do SOMETHING. But his shinobi self, the one he was so expertly trying to develop, screamed in his head to stay put, that shinobi don't cry, and they don't overreact. That'd only get them killed._

_Feeling his insides churn after staring at his father's guts out on the floor for too long, he stiffly left the room, forcing the accumulating vomit down. Someone would come…someone would come…_

_He now knew that no one would come, not for a while. Kakashi didn't have the nerve to just say what happened, with how everyone was reacting to his father and his apparent crime._

_Only when his sensei had seen a disturbance in his performance, something he had cursed himself for, for a full week, did everyone know what had happened the night of the crux of the storm._

_Hatake Sakumo had killed himself. Hatake Sakumo killed himself, leaving his only son to face his problem alone. Alone…alone…_

Alone…

The word echoed and faded into his mindset as he continued on walking. He had subconsciously stopped walking, remembering the harsh night of feeling alone, as if stripped naked.

"Kakashi!"

He stopped, recognizing the voice. He turned and saw his sensei, the only one to accept him after his father's acts. Noticing his stiff shoulders, he let them relax as he saw Minato-sensei catching up to him.

Slightly panting, he put on his shining smile.

"_Kakashi, come on, this is unhealthy for you. Please."_

"Yes, sensei?"

But he was already lost.

_It was a week after that incident—always called that, never anything else—and it had taken all but the famous Yellow Flash to beg on his knees to will Kakashi into doing anything. Thank the gods on high that he had gotten him to eat again; that was a two day streak, turning into three, without food or water (unless he was pilfering it from the kitchen) and it had scared both him and Kushina to death. Up until then, Kakashi had locked himself in the spare room they had in their house that was often used for guests (Jiraiya) and refused to even show his face._

"_Kakashi, come out, you have to eat," Minato pleaded through the door._

_He knew the boy could hear him, even though he didn't answer._

"_Kakashi…"_

"_No…"_

"_Come on out, please."_

"_No."_

"_Please, you can't do this to yourself."_

"_Yes I can, it's not like anyone cares."_

_This silenced Minato, both shocked and worried._

_It was only after the tempting smells of Kakashi's favorite food had he slowly, making sure not to make a sound, peeked his head out of the door. The warm, rich smell of miso soup and eggplants coaxed the boy to come out further, despite his determined stature. All the while, Minato smiled as he stirred the food, mixing the miso so it wouldn't settle._

_Kakashi, knowing full well what he was doing, had a small sign of a pout—_shinobi don't pout—_well hidden under his mask, of course, as he slowly sat down at the table, still not making a sound. But he knew his sensei knew that he was there._

_Minato wordlessly prepared dinner as Kushina sat across from Kakashi, giving a kind smile. Kakashi caught it via his peripheral vision, but looked down, not wanting to speak._

_After what seemed like hours and two embarrassingly loud stomach rumbles—where did his father keep his soldier pills again?—Minato set the food down, sat down next to him, gave his thanks, and began to eat. Kakashi didn't touch his food quite yet. Once he was certain that the two were occupied enough and weren't paying attention to him, he tentatively pulled his mask down and all but inhaled his food._

_Minato could only smile._

"…kashi, Kakashi! Can you hear me?"

Said Hatake blinked and his mind came shooting back to reality.

"Are you okay?" his sensei asked.

"Fine," he replied in a neutral tone.

After a pause, his sensei continued, "I was saying that Obito and Rin are waiting at Ichiraku. Are you in?"

Ichiraku Ramen. Of course, where else would his sensei go in his free time?

The Chuunin suppressed an annoyed sigh. Obito. The idiot that was usually the source of his problems.

He stole a glance up at his sensei, his savior, and his caretaker. His shoulders sagged in defeat ever so slightly.

How could he refuse?

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><p>It's been like years since I've done anything active and I've doubted every moment. But this past summer, with all my reading (I would have actually submitted stuff if it wasn't for me being away from my country), inspiration has struck! Thank God...<p>

Thanks for reading all, please review! I'm always happy to hear what you want to say, anonymous or not. Expect more songfics, 'cause I've got a bunch ;)

-Namite


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